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Hoarsely Rico said, ‘Touch me, Gypsy…please…’

She reached out and closed one hand around his length, feeling a shudder go through his big frame. She’d touched him like this on that first night too. He moved closer, put his hand to the back of her head, and while she kept her hand on him, moving up and down, he tipped her face up to his and kissed her.

He trailed his other hand down her body, caressing the side of one breast, its full outline, causing her own hand to stop momentarily. Then he continued down over her waist and her belly.

Mouths fused, Gypsy groaned deeply when she felt his hand seek between her legs, pushing them apart, stroking through her curls to where she burned wetly for him. Her hand stopped moving on him again for a moment when she felt the slide of his fingers along her wetness, slipping inside.

Her body clenched in an automatic reaction.

He tore his mouth away and said harshly, ‘Dio. How could I have forgotten how responsive you are…?’

Gypsy made a soft mewl. She ached all over. Her breasts throbbed, their peaks so tight and hard they almost hurt.

As if sensing her building agitation, Rico took her hand from him and pushed her back onto the bed. ‘Gypsy, I don’t know if I can go slowly…’

She lifted her head, feeling all at once slumberou

s and wide awake. Half incoherent with lust, she replied, ‘I don’t want slow.’

She vaguely heard the ripping of a packet before he was back between her legs, hair-roughened chest crushing her breasts. Blindly she drew up her legs and reached for his buttocks, her hands feathering along his hips.

He put one arm under her back, arching her up to him, and as he thrust into her he bent and sucked one nipple deep. Gypsy had to bite her hand to stop crying out loud.

With his steady thrusts, past and present mingled into one moment for Gypsy. She’d always thought she’d imbued their night together with something more than it was. That it couldn’t possibly have been as earth-shattering as she remembered.

But what was happening now was even more than she remembered. Little fires danced all over her skin. Sweat dewed her body. She burned and ached at the same time for the elusive pinnacle. Her hips moved in tandem with Rico’s. He was a master of torture, bringing them close, only to pull back again. Constantly hovering near the edge.

Close to emotional tears that she didn’t have the strength to hide, Gypsy husked, ‘Rico, please…’

And finally, unleashing his full awe-inspiring power, Rico gave in to the devil inside him and drove Gypsy over the shattering edge before letting himself fall behind her.

After a brief respite, it was Gypsy who turned to Rico and started to press tiny kisses all down his chest and hard belly. He tensed as she found that rapidly recovering part of him and took him into her mouth.

Sucking in a breath of pure arousal, struggling to retain control, he reached down to pull her away before she made him explode completely. Drawing her up so that she straddled him, he shifted her with big hands on her hips so that her hot, wet core slid down on him, encircling him in that tight heat.

With his legs bent, Rico clenched his jaw not to come just at the sight of Gypsy finding her rhythm, sliding up and down his shaft, which felt fuller and harder than he could ever remember. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs flicking her nipples, before he came up to take one and then the other into his mouth.

In some dim recess of his mind, as her movements became more frantic, as she pushed him back and bent down over his chest to press a kiss to his mouth, her hard nipples scraping against his chest, Rico knew that any hope he’d had that their night together hadn’t been as stupendous as in his memory was blown to smithereens. Because it had just been eclipsed.

Chapter Ten

‘I KNOW when you’re awake, Gypsy. You go very still and your breathing changes. I was aware of it every moment you lay pretending to sleep in Buenos Aires.’

Gypsy opened her eyes and met Rico’s grey ones. Her heart thudded painfully and her cheeks flooded with colour. She couldn’t bear to think of how wanton she’d been last night. Or how easily she’d capitulated.

He was propped up on one elbow. The curtains were open and she saw that he was cleanshaven and wearing a white shirt and jeans. Panic gripped her, and she would have thrown back the cover but remembered that she was naked.

‘What time is it? Where’s Lola?’

‘She’s dressed and downstairs, with Agneta and her grandson. He’s the same age.’

Gypsy looked at him suspiciously. ‘You changed her nappy?’

Rico grimaced. ‘Yes, after a few attempts.’

Something in Gypsy’s insides melted but she fought it. ‘I should get up.’

Rico leaned back and put his hands behind his head. ‘Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.’

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